The Calm After The Storm

I don't know if you read or heard about the dozens of tornadoes that tore through the states of Alabama, Indiana, Kentucky and Ohio.  The string of massive tornado-producing thunderstorms ended up killing 37 people and caused so much devastation that people had lost hundreds of their homes and countless businesses and other structures.  What makes this a close subject to my heart is the fact that several of these tornadoes came dangerously close to me, my family and friends and killed a good many of the people in the general area, where I live.

You can click this link for a large part of what happened exactly, here, and other states.

It was so bad, the National Guard were called in to help out, clear debris and keep spectators away from the havoc-stricken towns.

Some of these real life horror stories I've known for some time now.  But there are a few that I didn't find out until today.  Like the grandmother who had closed herself off in her closet for fear of being wiped out by an oncoming tornado that day.  The tornado passed by her house, luckily but she was found in that closet four days later, dead from dehydration.  I'm not sure if she couldn't get out or that she stayed in the closet for fear of her life.  You would think, after a couple hours or a day, at the most, she would have left.  Maybe she was disabled, mentally or physically.

But it does make you think.  Death can come to you at any time and in ways you least suspect.  I don't fret about this aspect of life much or hardly at all but I think young people, who often believe themselves to be somewhat invulnerable, should give it some thought.

There's also the story of a toddler that miraculously stayed alive after it's entire family was killed by a tornado.  The house it lived in was obliterated, as well.  It was critically injured and taken to the hospital.  It lived for several days until it, too, died from injuries from one of the destructive tornadoes.

What is inspiring is that though the tornadoes killed over three dozen people and caused so much devastation, people everywhere volunteered to help.  A lot of businesses and churches, of course, collected donations from people empathizing with the plight and tragedy of those dishearteningly affected.  I feel sorry for people in life-shattering situations.  The Japan and Haiti tsunami /earthquake victims, for instance.

But people came to help out in those incidents, as well.  Sometimes it's easy to forget the good in people.  The media doesn't make it any easier.  But they do report the good that people do every so often.  They should promote those stories more often but we all know, according to them, that misery sells.

I went to one of my favorite parks the other day, after the onslaught of tornadoes the day before, with a friend.  We drove around and I got some nice shots and a few videos with my new digital camera.  I've included a video and various photos there of that day.  While there, I thought, So this is the calm after the storm.  You could feel the analogy and see the analogy, simultaneously.

a ray of light such as this is like a ray of hope or a scene that induces relief within

If this isn't a scene of peace and serenity, I don't know what is.  Check out my video of the park dam below.  You can really hear the wind blowing hard that day.  But when you see the sun trying to and succeeding in getting through those clouds and you listen to the water, it can soothe you.  Nature, I believe, and as I've pointed out before, is a true doctor and nurturer of your spirit, at times.

I took this shot because I thought it looked cool.

Some time ago, I took my digital camera and took several short videos of my daily walk through the park I usually go through every day.  The pictures above are scenes of a state park.  I would gladly walk through that particular park every day if I lived closer to it.  But my walks in my nearby park are usually quiet, enjoyable, filled with beautiful scenery and without any disturbances- unless some asshole brings a large, unleashed dog as you're trying to walk along back to the safety of your vehicle or park bathroom before it tears off a chunk of your thigh or worse.  Lol.

You'll hear a lot of wind in these videos and you'll also note that while I'm filming, I'm also walking (so you kind of feel like you're walking with me- that's the whole idea) and maybe you'll hear me breathing a little hard.  Ya gotta remember folks:  My footsies are deformed (inoperable heel spurs, enuinos foot deformity, and foot neuropathy).  That means I kind of walk "funny."  And yes, for those ready to give me unsolicited advice, I already do what I can to lessen the pain and other shit.  This has been with me for decades so I'm an old veteran of such shit.  I was bullied for that "funny walking" crap, among other things, when I was a kid.  As you may or may not know, that bullying crap leaves scars in your psyche- but it can also make you stronger, of course.  That's an issue I plan on writing about someday but not today.

Plus, I'll mention here that I have high blood pressure, along with diabetes, so it might explain the heavy breathing part you hear throughout the videos.  Please, no gratuitous sexual innuendo/joke needed here- unless it's funny enough.  :)  I figure somebody who can have as sick as sense of humor I can have will say something.  You're welcome to it.  :)

And yes, I'm doing what I can about those other previously mentioned maladies, too.  High BP and type 2 diabetes and so on AND SO FORTH.  No lectures.  I believe I'll take this meaningful moment to scratch my ass and go on.

But I get through it all.  I've learned to deal with it like I've had to deal with my Major Depressive disorder.

In any case, I get through my daily walks, stopping every so often from some pain and I get to look at peaceful, stress lessening scenes like the videos show below.  Enjoy the serenity.  Take a walk with me.





I come down to this part of the park, often.  I'll sit in the gazebo, sometimes and contemplate ideas, feelings and just enjoy the atmosphere.

You know, no matter what destructive or painful events happen in your life or the lives of others, there always seems to be that ray of light or that calm after the storm.  Take care, folks.  Just as importantly taking care of yourself and other folks in need, try to gain wisdom from other's experiences through reading and learning about them and gain strength from those experiences when you can.

Now look who's lecturing!  Hahaha.

Ooops.  I forgot to include the Venison Stew recipe I promised to give last time.  Oh well.  Next time.  Bambi is dandy in a stew.  Have I said that before?

Peace of Mind and Lords of Acid- Out Comes the Evil

Wow. If you haven't heard their music before, you may want to try Lords of Acid, guys, out on your ears. Fucked up, yes. Sexed up, sure. But the beat is something easy to get into.  It's rave music and or techno music, if you feel the need to categorize it, but it's more than that.  I think if you get them, you like them.  Hell, if you're not persuaded by the steady rhythms, overall style and the catchy beat in the first place, I don't think you'll give them a shot.  If you wanna, read the rest of this post while listening to the song.  There is no real video to be watched.

Yeah, it's one of those kind.  Don't be put off.  No tears, please

I hope you all had a great weekend. I'll be seriously catching up on blog visiting and commenting the next few days. I've kinda been taking it easy and going to parks for tranquility and peace of mind- or maybe I've just taken a break to pick up the pieces of my mind.  Too much going on all at once again.  That was the anchor wearing me down.

And thanks to my cat, Victor, who can somehow type, has a certain command of the English language, while  carefully observing the Human Condition or "brain reformatting by certain systems and/or corporations, for filling in for me while I was away.  For that matter, hell, everyone else in the blogosphere is allowing or being forced by their animals out of their blog author chair and taking over.  Why not let the cat do it if he wants?  He can rant as well or write as well as the rest as the bloggers out there.

Did I mention the next post will be one where you can actually take walks with me, by movies I've recorded during these walks, that take you on  peaceful little journeys?  I will even be including a recipe I've created for Venison Stew.  You don't want to miss that!

Bambi is dandy in a hearty broth, I always say.

I farted twelve times in the park, this afternoon, while taking a walk.  Sometimes they came in three sputters.  True.  I felt it important enough to report for a status update on Facebook.  The people need to know.

Beats watching the clown car full of Republicans spill out and pull their crazy one liners on people these days.  What is it with these obvious numb nuts?  Santorum, Gingrich, Romney and so on.  Earlier you had really radical presidential hopefuls like gun-toting Perry and crazy-eyed Bachmann mouthing off inanities or you got these guys in the present.

Here's a few crazy Republican quotes, in case you haven't heard them, but I'm sure if have by now:

The problem isn't too little money in political campaigns, but not enough- Newt Gingerich

"I don't know how much God has to do to get the attention of the politicians. We've had an earthquake; we've had a hurricane. He said, 'Are you going to start listening to me here?' Listen to the American people because the American people are roaring right now. They know government is on a morbid obesity diet and we've got to rein in the spending." –Rep. Michele Bachmann, suggesting at a presidential campaign event in Florida that the 2011 East Coast earthquake and hurricane was a message from God (Aug. 2011)

“Give the park police more ammo.” ~Newt Gingrich, responding to a  reporter who asked what to do about the homeless a few days after the police shot a homeless man in front of the White House.

"Corporations are people, my friend... of course they are. Everything corporations earn ultimately goes to the people. Where do you think it goes? Whose pockets? Whose pockets? People's pockets. Human beings, my friend." —GOP presidential candidate Mitt Romney


"I would be saying to the Iranians, you either open up those [nuclear weapons] facilities, you begin to dismantle them and make them available to inspectors, or we will degrade those facilities through air strikes.
If we reach a point where I believe the only thing that will stop them from this program being realized and having a nuclear weapon – I will make a clear declaration to the Iranian government that you either open your facilities, you begin to dismantle this nuclear program, or we will dismantle it for you." - Rick Santorum

Vote for Rick Santorum if you're still living in the eighteenth century

Getting back to this song.  I mean that's more important than ego-maniacal clowns that are funded by all the money they can handle form corporations for favor returning purposes...  Having a song you just discovered and have taken a liking to it and trying to convince people to at least give it a try is a hard sell.  Since I'm not much of a salesman, I'm not going to bother.  And quite frankly, I'm tired of convincing people of even the simplest of opinions or absolute truths. Ya either like this tune or not.  Doesn't persuade me either way.  I will shake your virtual hand if you do give it a listen, though.  At least then, you've shown yourself to be open minded.

Good Christ on a crispy cracker, at least it's a start.

When I first listened to the song and found out it was, on the surface, about drug addiction, if you think about it for a minute, you could switch some of these words with material possessions and obsessions about all types of things out there and you could have a song about any addiction.  Addiction to being judgmental about most things and people.  Addiction to certain food or drink.  Addiction to nervous or destructive habits.  Addiction, in any form for any reason, to me, isn't that great. A few harmless compulsions, now and then, I can understand. A full blown addiction to anything is bad news and is almost always negatively life altering and can lead to loss of life, friends, family and more- including your sanity.

Speaking of further PEACE OF MIND...Good news!  My wife and I are working on plans to go to Hawaii later this year.  We'll be visiting all the main islands on a cruise ship.  During one part of the trip, we'll be passing by an active volcano.  That will be exciting.  So will the sight of the whales racing along side the ship. I hope the volcanic lava hits me full force in the face.  BLAMMO!  No sexually gratuitous jokes here, please.  You know what a delicate, moral flower I am.

Now if that big meteor we're supposed to get, comes this December of this year and hits Earth, I wanna be right there.  Smack dab in the middle.  I'm not into lingering pain.  If I go hungry, because of closed roads or whatever, and can't find any animals or regular food to eat, I will cheerfully gnaw on your arm as you shake, shake, shake.  Instead of a Zombie Apocalypse for me, it will be a Low Blood Sugar Diabetic Apocalypse.  Sorry, in advance.  :(

Anyway, my thoughts on Doomsday 12/21/12 goes something like this:  I think a bunch of idiots (homo sapiens, ya know) are going to convince themselves- so well- that the end is on that exact date, no matter who has predicted whatever in the past for this particular day and will put things into motion (riots, bombs, all matter of mayhem) that might create needless hell for the rest of us trying to do something productive that day without interference.  

This music I just discovered, yet heard of but never listened to until now, from Lords of Acid, spews forth sweet, melodic beautiful acid that creates magical rainbows of love in the sky.  No lava, yet.

Lyrics to "Out Comes the Evil" by Lords of Acid

Half a pound of tuppany rice 
Half a pound of treacle 
That's the way the melody goes 
Pop goes the weasel 

Half a pound of tuppany rice 
Half a pound of treacle 
That's the way the melody goes 
Pop goes the weasel

Half a pound of heroin 
Half a pound of treacle 
That's the way the story goes 
Out comes the evil

Feels so good, feels so bad [x2]

Half a pound of heroin 
Half a pound of treacle 
That's the way the story goes 
Out comes the evil

Feels so good, feels so bad [x2]

Half a pound of heroin 
Half a pound of treacle 
That's the way the story goes 
Out comes the evil

Feels so good, feels so bad [x4]

Half a pound of tuppany rice 
Half a pound of treacle 
That's the way the melody goes 
Pop goes the weasel

Believe it not, I'm calming down. All the problems I talked about in previous posts haven't gone completely away, of course but I'm not asking or expecting that. Just a little relief now and then. I promise that if I hula dance during the trip, I will put the picture of me doing that on the blog. I know. I can feel both your excitement and revulsion.

The Furious Gingerbread Man

The Gingerbread Man was furious.  With weapon in hand, he was determined to slay those who dared to stand in his way.  For too many years, his brethren had been made for the sole purpose of being devoured.

"Why must this be the way of things?" asked The Gingerbread Man.

He raised his hardened cake fist, shook it furiously and sobbed.

Somehow, he thought to himself, he would find a way to make humanity pay.

Suddenly, a dog came up and began munching on his gingerbread penis.  This made The Gingerbread Man even more furious.  The Gingerbread Man cried out, "I will be eaten no longer!  I have rights!  How dare you eat me!"

The dog, blown away by the fact that a cookie was talking to him, said, "Well, if this isn't some freaky shit, I don't know what is."  And then the dog walked off, shaking his head and vowed to get some therapy.  He realized, in those moments, that the preceding event would likely scar him for life if he didn't receive help and support with this issue.  And then he licked his balls.

Furious, the Gingerbread Man ran as fast as he could back to his gingerbread house.  He poured himself a drink and began to relax. Just as his nerves were beginning to settle, a man child approached and took a huge bite out of his home.

"Oh no you didn't!" screamed the really incredibly furious gingerbread man.

The man child took another big bite off the top of the roof, gobbling up a chocolate candy heart.

"MMMM... Tasty," said the man child, as cookie crumbles fell out of his mouth.  The man child continued eating the gingerbread house with as much enthusiasm as a crack addict scoring a rock after being without a high for a day.

Finally, the man child's mother called out the man child's name and the little brat reluctantly ran to her, throwing a tantrum and pissing himself before throwing a fork at his mom's head.

The mother plucked the embedded fork from her forehead and with a reassuring tone, she said, "Ohhhh... that's okay, dear.  Mommy will get a boo boo band aid for her head and then mommy will let you eat the rest of the gingerbread house because you are such a good little boy."


The Gingerbread Man, even more furious than before, had had enough.

 He shouted, "Sweet Satan, Lord of All Who Dwell in Darkness, please give me the power to destroy those who wish to do me harm!"

A black fog swirled around The Gingerbread Man.  Electricity filled the air around him.  The flames of hell began to engulf him.  When the flames disappeared, his form had changed.  The Gingerbread Man became possessed with the spirit of a demon.  And a single perfect cookie dropped from his crusty butthole.

For a moment, he felt sweet relief.

Then he became enraged because he remembered he was supposed to be furious.  In the days to come, the Gingerbread Man gathered up his fellow gingerbread brethren and created a mighty delicious army.

Furious, The Gingerbread Man commanded his army to fight the humans.  So powerful were the gingerbread army, in their quest, that they did, indeed, conquer all of humanity and laid waste to all of their creations.  Dogs were ridden, against their will, by the gingerbread men, as if they were horses.

True.

Those humans who were not slain, were forced into slavery, cock fighting and prostitution.  And when the humans were forced to copulate, the gingerbread men ate their children.

And thus began The Ten Thousand Year Reign of The Gingerbread Men.  All hail their might, wisdom and absolute power!

One Hundred and Sixty Four Tornadoes and At Least 280 Deaths

I found this to be more important to talk about than any Royal Wedding, any birth certificate of a current president or all the rest of that crap the media blathers on about these days. Let's get real, folks. This is real news involving real lives. And it really puts things into perspective.

The National Weather Service reported 164 tornadoes struck, yesterday, on April 27. Wednesday's tornadic supercell storms, that killed upwards of 280 people in a wind-driven rampage across the Midwestern United States, is the first of its caliber to have been forecasted and monitored through its progression with such first-hand accounts and eyes-in-the-sky intensity. Most of the tornadoes were at least a mile wide. Here's footage of some of the tornadoes captured by people, who, in my opinion, got just a little too close. 280 people now, have been noted as being dead from the destruction, for the record. But the count is still rising as more bodies are found.

Too Disgusting For Me

You know you've lived too long in this world when you've been around long enough to see a clothes company selling push up bras for little girls. That's right. In case you haven't heard, Abercrombie & Fitch are now selling push-up bikini bras for 7 to 14 year old little girls. The bra's padded cups and halter tops promise to lift and emphasize what little boobs the girls have before puberty.

Why in the fuck is this a reality?

I mean I don't get it. This goes way beyond sick to me. And I'm a pretty sick puppy.

The Abercrombie & Fitch company are the same stinking douchebags that sold (don't know if they're still selling them) a line of thongs for 7 year olds, in 2002, that were decorated with the words "Eye Candy" and "Wink Wink". These fuckers should absolutely be killed. Any parent buying any of this crap for their little daughters should be taken out to the woodshed and given forty whacks with a machete.

Push-up bras are sex tools. That's it. Ridiculously deceptive sex tools, at that. What kind of people would endorse this crap for kids? Bad enough that adults do this and the Botox injections and the other superficial bullshit that people do because they believe appearances to be so fucking important. Why would you push your kid into trying to be more adult-like? Do you want some pervert to rape them? If that isn't the parent who would buy something like this and Abercrombie & Fitch's goal, I don't know what it could be. After it's all said and done, that will be the likely result sooner or later. Who knows? It's probably already happened.

I feel the same way about these little girl beauty pageants you see on TV these days. The parents dress their little girls up, sometimes barely over the age of four, maybe not even that old, in tiny revealing dresses, tu-tu's, gaudy jewelry and so much make up that only a whore would wear. Then they have them compete with other little girls in revealing outfits and have them dance seductively and act like a slut on stage before a cheering audience. The parents that enter their little girls into these contests are more depraved than I could ever imagine. It boggles the fucking mind. I might write about some sick shit at times, but I would never involve children and I sure as hell wouldn't make up these pervert-watching TV shows for all the child molesters out there, drooling and ogling.

The kids are the real victims here. They don't know any better. They think they're just playing "dress up" but on a grander scale. But the parents and adults, in general, should know better. They must be doing it for profit or fame or to somehow live their warped dreams through their kids. Whatever the excuse, it's not good enough and completely wrong in so many ways.

Hey, if you wanna watch something that goes so far beyond good taste and good sense, watch Toddlers and Tiaras. It's one of those little girl beauty pageants shows and it's on a channel that I thought would have the decency enough NOT to have something like this on their schedule- The Learning Channel. This irresponsible show was so creepy and frightening to witness, I had to turn it off after just a few minutes. It made me sick. And it takes quite a bit to make me sick. On second thought, don't watch this shit! I wouldn't subject anybody to watching anything this distasteful. Go watch a porn, featuring a bunch of burnt out crack whores and sexually diseased freaks, instead. It would be a helluva lot more wholesome and less degrading, for sure.

Well, that's all I can say about this kind of thing. I think I'm going to go out for a walk pretty soon and try to clear my mind. Shit like this really agitates me.

Ruining A Viagra Moment

Well, Happy St. Patrick's Day and all that rot. Have you heard and seen enough green beer and leprechaun jokes to make you want to vomit green clovers and Lucky Charms? Is so, you're in "luck" and oh so fortunate to have stopped by here because I'll have a few Viagra jokes for ya later in this fine, upstanding post to substitute for all the St. Patty's Day jokes you'll be bombarded with today. I mean, gee, there's not many Viagra jokes circulating around, right? ;-)

Tingling or hard with anticipation? You bet you are.

Over the past weekend, my wife, friend and I went to Clifty Falls State Park in Madison, Indiana. It's a beautiful park with waterfalls, an interesting lodge with plenty of history and trails that vary from being short or relaxing to long or rugged for travel.

Above, is one of the waterfalls close to The Overlook. I have more pictures I took of Clifty Falls on my other, somewhat gentler blog, Pics For Kicks, if you to want to see more.

At one point during our travels in the 1,416 acres worth of park, we stopped at one of the scenic areas, got out of the car and walked next to an curious looking rock wall to look out and see another spectacular view the park had to offer. Behind us, above where we stood, on a large concrete base, was an excellent shelter to stand beneath. In this wooden shelter, was an elderly couple, holding hands.

Below, is a picture of the scenic point and the old couple in the shelter.

A couple times, while standing next to the wall, I looked back and observed how the man and wife gazed into each other's eyes and whispered words to each other that were obviously loving, in nature. I could tell they loved each other very much. It seemed to be a very romantic moment for them. When the older, white haired man kissed his wife, I couldn't help but to smile and hope that my wife and I still felt that way about each other when we reached their age.

During this instant of enchanting romance, my wife let an enormous, rich, bubbly fart erupt from her anus, audibly causing her butt cheeks to flap against each other. The aroma was so foul, it corrupted the air for miles all around us. I dared not look behind me at the old couple. I don't think I could have if I had desired, anyway. My eyes were burning... Really!

Throughout the coughing and wheezing, I wondered if the elder gentleman had went to the trouble to have taken the magical blue boner pill, Viagra, to ensure that his romantic moments in the park would lead to a successful sexual interaction at the lodge nearby. If so, I believe his Viagra moment was ruined. My wife was beginning to titter when I heard somebody clear their throat. Perhaps their throat was being singed with the acrid air or the victim was trying their best not to violently retch. Of this, I'm not sure.

Viagra, if you don't know already, has been attributed in the past and present to enhance the magical sexual abilities of a man. Magic acts in Las Vegas have entire shows centered around this phenomena.

When I looked back at my wife, after she cut loose her awesome anal cloud of death, she was blushing, slightly, with her cheeks (probably both of face and ass) glowing red. She may have seemed embarrassed but I knew better. She can be evil, at times, wishing to take the cherished, loving moments of an elderly couple, going toward the end of their years of life and flinging them into the pooper, so to speak. I'm afraid I've corrupted her, too well, over our two decades of marriage.

My friend, my wife and I, all three, unceremoniously turned around to walk back to the car. My friend said, when he briefly dared to look, that he noticed the old woman was crinkling her nose and wincing a bit. Likely from pain. My friend said he didn't want to glance at the old gentleman.

Meanwhile, as I walked back to the car, I was attempting to not burst from laughter but I quickly proved unsuccessful in the endeavor. As I chortled, uncontrollably, my friend was trying to keep himself from laughing, as well. My wife, on the other hand, God bless her, laughed out loud and proud.

Once upon a time, long ago, she was my innocent-of-heart student of depravity, delightful cruelty towards others and rude behavior. Now... a teacher. I can't help but to feel a little blessed and yes, a little shit-covered, too, my dear friends.

On the way home, after laughing and speculating on the thoughts and welfare of the charming elderly couple in the park, my friend reminded me of my own delightful incident that we had during our morning breakfast at Bob Evans restaurant. Before the three of us had taken off towards Clifty Falls, we were enjoying a scrumptious morning meal at one of our best local eating establishments. Pleasant conversation and delicious, fresh brewed coffee accompanied our meal and all was going well until the old people sat behind us.

The gray-haired group were talking loudly to each other, unable to hear clearly what each member of the group were saying to each other over the clatter of noise from the busy restaurant. My back was to them and I was slightly irritated by their loudness and the fact that one of them had their chair too close to the back of my own. Finally, I cut a boisterous fart of such high intensity, the elderly folks immediately dropped their eating utensils on their plates and left their table.

Serves them right for being so rude with their raised voices, oldness and stuff.

My friend, who was facing their direction at the time, said, "I thought they were going to hurt each other trying to escape." I silently wondered if one them had broken a hip before I went back to enjoying my delicious Western omelette of eggs, melted cheese, bell peppers and sausage with a side order of hash browns. I couldn't be bothered with such distracting thoughts with a breakfast like that sitting before me.

My friend joined my wife and I in a gale of nervous laughter as they left. It was a good start to the day.

Later on that night, before turning into bed, I did ponder what happened with the old married couple after we left the park. Was their romantic interlude completely shattered for the rest of the day? Did they commence lovemaking after all? Did the old fella decide to take another blue pill in order to get his boner back and pork the wife?

The Chaos in Japan, Priorities And a Beautiful Song

This is another one of my more non-humorous, thoughtful posts that tends to send a few bloggers and readers who are oddly addicted to only one type of writing either scurrying away or incapable of relating. Of the latter type, they will sometimes leave a comment that seems out of place with the subject(s) being written about.

Well, hell, now that I've alienated some of my readers...

Lately, I don't know if you've noticed, but I've been a little absent from the blogging world. I try to comment here and there on different blogs when I've had the time but I've been busy and preoccupied with thoughts on the devastation in Japan and meaning of life type stuff. I've been on the move, when I'm not watching the news, with traveling, celebrating birthdays and doing other enjoyable activities. Life is going pretty well for me now, relatively, despite a few problems and worries.

One of many things that bother me with the ongoing tragic events in Japan is that there is still a lot of media coverage on the exploits of celebrities. I don't know how it is in other countries but here in the U.S., anything about Charlie Sheen either gets equal amount of time on TV or trumps the amount of time that the news of overwhelming chaos and life loss in Japan gets. You may disagree with this. You may even provide an excuse for this, like I can already hear or see now... Well, we don't want to bombard the public with constant news of Japan's destruction and sorrows and we need to balance it out with the latest goofy thing that Charlie Sheen or some other celebrity has uttered or done so we don't bum or burn people out on what's going on in a country other than our own.

To those that say this, I say FUCK YOU with all of my cold, blackened heart.

I'll go even further to say it's too bad if you're bored with the news of a suffering people or you just want to look away because you can't handle it. I honestly cannot stand it, almost more than anything else, when idiots purposely ignore or deny the truths of life, others and themselves. Everyone needs to face the truth, no matter how much it hurts or how much it is unwanted.

Watching the morning news on CNN the other day, there was an anchorman and woman talking the entire time about how the radiation leak may or may not affect the U.S. Not much was said about how it could affect the Japanese citizenry. When they weren't talking about our safety, they were talking about the efforts to find any Americans in Japan and making sure they got back home, here, in the U.S., safely. Outrageous. I don't understand that. But, in a way, I do. People have their priorities messed up.

Celebrity garbage over real news. Our own interests over the crisis or interests of others. I could go on and on but why bother, right? And that's part of the bigger picture, too. We can't be bothered. The pain, loss and fear that someone else is facing seems distant and small to us because we're so hopelessly self-obsessed. I believe it's some type of mental illness, plain stupidity or societal brainwashing that is so apparent to those who are aware.

I can already see someone telling me in the comment box that the reason there is news on this and not that is because it's all based on what is more profitable to tell or show and... you know, I'm just so sick and tired of hearing that, too. I know the reasons why people do the shit they do. I just want them to stop.

And yes, I know that won't happen either.

Well, I'm done ranting. If you've gotten this far down, I congratulate you, I suppose. The truth is hard to swallow for some. That's why I will, at times, sugar coat it a bit with feeble attempts at humor. Some will get it or accept it or deny it or play devil's advocate just for the fuck of it. So, there you go.

The video clip below is of a band that I feel is incredibly underated. Their name is Filter and the song is called Fades Like a Photograph. Even though the video portrays the loss of a relationship, the song, itself, could be interpreted in different ways. Like the loss of a loved one, such as what is being experienced in thousands of cases in Japan now. To me, there is no worse pain than the loss of a loved one that you had a deep personal connection with, no matter how it comes about. To those who have had this experience, you can relate.

My next post will center around a couple funny incidents I had over the past weekend. Stay tuned for that. I just had to get what I said, in this post, out of my system. I make zero apologies for that. Take care, everyone and always remember what's truly important.

Red Cross: Donors can contribute to the relief efforts in JAPAN by calling 800-733-27677 or visiting http://www.redcross.org. Each text message is a $10 donation to the Red Cross, which will be added to the donors’ next cellphone bill.

Shat The Snowwombat

Before you is a tale of enchantment, whimsy, hope, love and a gathering of woodland creatures, geared towards making you feel all warm and juicy inside. Feel the wonder! Delight in the magic! Behold the bliss-inducing imagery and joy that will surely fill your heart!

Gosh!

when Shat The Snowwombat came upon a gathering of animals. The animals looked at Shat with shock because he was made almost entirely of snow, yet his penis was made of wood. Well... that and he appeared to be more than a bit handicapped looking to the critters of the forest. The woodland wildlife quickly noticed he was shuffling along the snowy grounds with a walking stick in his grip. Shat had been badly injured during an ice hockey game years before and, as a result, found it difficult to get about. This day was the first time he had been out of his snowwombat home in years, braving the adventure of the wilderness. For Shat, this was an act of personal triumph.

But that personal triumph didn't matter to the deer, the squirrels or the rest of the animals. They all laughed at poor Shat. Shat asked the animals, "Why are all of you laughing at me?" The animals shook their heads and began laughing considerably louder. One of the deer turned his gaze away from Shat, in disgust, as if he were an abomination.

The squirrel suddenly shouted, "You're a freak! That's why we're laughing at you!"

Shat's wooden penis pointed downward. When this happened, you could tell he was sad. :(

A fox by the name of Rascal suddenly ran up behind the snowwombat and placed a human's discarded drink container on top of Shat's head. Then he ran back to the mob of animals and joined in their relentless mocking of the creature made of snow.

Rascal the fox exclaimed, "Look everyone! It's King Weirdo and he's wearing his crown!"

Shat cried at the taunting and laughing beasts that began to surround him. This constant mocking of the animals, because he was different, caused Shat to become so depressed, his wooden penis slipped away from between his legs and fell off into the snow. The animals poked and prodded him until he turned around and started the long journey back home.

Before Shat could shuffle across the road into the other side of the forest, a vehicle full of humans came by. Shat called out to them and said, "Please give me a lift. I am afraid I will not make it back to my home before I expire."

The humans were a little afraid of the snowwombat at first. They couldn't believe this "thing" was moving toward them. In fact, Shelly, the attractive blonde in the passenger seat of the car, pissed her panties, in fright. The husband, Jack, asked Shelly, "What the hell is that?" The baby in the back seat began wailing. Shelly said, "I don't know and I don't care. I just want to get the hell out of here. That thing is freakin' me the hell out."

Jack and Shelly had been married only five years and had produced five kids in that space of time. The baby in the back seat was the latest addition. Their other kids were dropped off at one of their parent's houses where the kids would besiege and harass the suffering grandparents all day long. This was a strange and cruel custom practiced by humans quite frequently. Adult humans would often take advantage of their parents by asking them to babysit their offspring for them, promising to be back in a few hours, while they went off to a land far, far away for a bit of serenity or to a hotel to fuck and create more rugrats for the suffering grandparents to take care of in the future. The parents wouldn't be back to retrieve their youngsters until the next day or the next month.

This is how Shelly looked before she had kids.

Humans were very proficient at creating more and more offspring, regardless of the consequences. With that said, even Jack and Shelly agreed this last addition to the family was enough, finally.

After the last baby was pushed out of Shelly's well worn vagina, Jack was thoughtful enough to go down to the hospital gift shop to buy Shelly a lovely card and a festive, colorful balloon that said CONGRATS in big bold lettering. Shelly was overwhelmed when the proud poppa kissed her on the cheek and gave her the gifts.

And this was the card.

Now, curiosity had gotten the best of Jack and he decided to get out of the car to see what the unfamiliar creature was. Shelly begged him to stop and to get back into the car. Jack waved Shelly's concern away and walked toward Shat the snowwombat. Shat was only a few feet away from Jack when he said, "Don't be afraid. Just because I look different from others doesn't mean I will harm you."

Jack's jaw went slack. He was frozen in place and found it difficult to understand that this thing of snow could speak. He wondered, Am I having an acid flashback?

Then Shat, in his attempt to quell Jack's shock and fear, told Jack a joke.

Shat said, "An Alpaca went into a bar, ya see, and as it was sitting on the stool the Pope comes in and sits down at the bar counter beside him. The Alpaca turns his head and says to the Roman Catholic Holy Father, 'Hey, what's that place called- that you hang out at?' The Pope answers, 'That would be the Vatican, my son.' The Alpaca inquired, after smirking, 'Is that the Vatican or the Vati-can't?' Then the Alpaca rears his head back and laughs. The bartender shakes his head at the lame joke. Furious, the Pope jumps down off his bar stool and punches the Alpaca in the face, knocking him out and then proceeds to fuck it hard in the ass until the animal bleeds to death on the bar room floor."

After hearing the joke, Jack becomes enraged and exclaims, "You bastard! I'm Catholic and I know for a fact the Pope couldn't have fucked the Alpaca in the ass and made it bleed to death! The Pope's penis is only two and one quarter inches in length and I oughta know. I've made several booty calls to the Vatican in my day and have sucked The Holy Father's all powerful and almighty blessed skin flute in many a night."

Shat wasn't sure what to say. It seemed his attempt to "break the ice" with the human somehow failed and that the man was acting irrationally. Jack glared at the snowwombat and accused him by saying, "Only a demonic being would make such jokes at the Pope's expense."

Jack walked toward Shat, intent on destroying him.

Suddenly, Shat's fairy godmother appeared from nowhere and stopped time. Both Shat and the magical woman were in a dark place, quiet and free of turmoil.

"My name is Labia Minora and I am your fairy godmother," the wondrous woman stated.

Shat said, "You're the most beautiful woman I've ever beheld in my gaze."

The fairy godmother said, "I know. I get that a lot." Which she followed with a little giggle.

"Now, Shat, I've noticed you've been having a bit of difficulty trying to bond with the woodland creatures and the humans," said Labia Minora, quite exuberantly. She asked, "If there were anything you would wish for, what would that be, my dear one?"

Shat thought about it for a moment and told her what that one wish would be.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

After the magical meeting with his fairy godmother had ended, Shat found himself in the exact spot that he had initially met her.

Now Jack and the rest of the beasties of the forest converged upon Shat, ready to tear him apart because he was different and things that he had said.

Pleadingly, Shat the snowwombat cried out, "Please, stay away from me!"

They cared not for Shat's cries of anguish and instead, seemed even more eager to pounce upon him.

With a wave of his walking stick, Shat warned, "I told you to keep at bay!"

Suddenly, a blue mystical bolt flew out the end of Shat's walking stick. This resulted in Jack being turned into a human icicle, buried inside the frozen ground to his chest. The animals were astonished. Shelly grabbed her baby and ran out toward her frozen husband.

Standing next to her thoughtful husband and seeing what Shat had done, Shelly looked at the snowwombat and said, "I'm going to kill you, you freaky little monster."

Shat, frightened, waved his magic stick wand again and turned Shelly into a Snickers candy-loving monster.

The baby was dropped to it's feet as the mother roared like a ferocious jungle beast and ran off towards town, in search of the particular candy made by Mars, Incorporated.

Angry at what Shat had turned his mother into and, more importantly, the fact that he wanted to get some titty milk and she had left with her tits, the baby let out a growl and ran on his little hands and knees, menacingly, toward Shat.

Shat waved his wand again, turning the baby into an odd human/unicorn/clown hybrid and transported him to a carnival sideshow.

Turning toward the angry mob of wilderness animals, Shat waved his wand many more times, causing as much chaos and abominations to appear as he felt the pain in his heart and soul.

The animal who first threw hurtful insult at him, the squirrel, was abruptly frozen, completely and transported to a far away city to lay on top of a cigarette butt waste can like a gruesome decoration.

One of the deer that had mocked him earlier felt a sudden cold draft around his rear end. When he looked back, he found that his butt had been sliced off and his blood and guts were pumping out onto the snow covered ground. Then the deer dropped dead. Where was his butt? Shat had magically transported it to the outside wall of a human's house. The deer's butt hole was turned into a doorbell.

When Shat was finished working his wonders with his magic wand, the snowwombat felt an overwhelming joy fill his heart. Happy with himself once again, Shat shuffled his way back home and turned the cave in which he had lived, into a beautiful fairy land type of castle.

And this, my friends, is where our enchanting story comes to an inspiring close.

A Little Piece of "Paradise"

Written about five years ago for another website, this is an excerpt from a sci-fi/erotic/humor story I created. Definitely NOT for anyone 18 and younger. It's pretty extreme, twisted and graphic to some people. Most people have told me they like the entire story, for one reason or another, and it has received an 8.5 rating out of 10 from the original site I wrote it for.

Remember... You were warned.

This is the excerpt from Chapter 2 of "Paradise"

Zahkra asked, "What happened?"

David explained, "Me and my buddies were driving all around, to the north of here…." Pausing, David glanced over and noticed Ulla's nipples poking through her halter top. Ulla winked at him. Embarrassed and stimulated, David felt his penis begin to swell. He continued, "At least I think we were north of here. Anyway, I kind of got separated from them and eventually came this way. I've been riding all day. Got lost and ran out of gas. I figured they would have found me by now."

Zahkra offered, "Well, David, we can take you back to our place. It's not far from here. We'll get your vehicle hitched to the back of the truck and take you there, get your tank filled and have you on your way again. Or we can drive you back to town, but first, you look like you could eat something."

Zahkra grinned, knowing exactly what the young rider could eat first.

As David pondered what he should do, Ulla nonchalantly walked behind David, casually pulled a small tranquilizer gun from the back of her shorts and shot him in the ass. The three mischievous HydraSians then commenced to hitch the ATV to the back of the truck. Completing that task, they loaded their captive in the truck cab and made the journey back to Sanctuary. Mission accomplished.

The captive, strapped and bound in the bed, was a twenty-something male with a burr haircut. His short stature and thin body made him appear even more helpless than he already was. His name was David and he was slowly regaining consciousness. The girls had stripped off his clothes earlier. His legs were pulled apart with tethers tied to opposing rails. Now, they were enjoying rubbing flavored oils on his chest, genitals and buttocks. The oils produced the added benefit of creating a warm sensation on skin when applied liberally, in which they were.

"Oh, I think he likes it," observed Fayne, as David's penis stiffened.

Zahkra brought over a needled syringe and announced, full of glee, "He will especially appreciate this."

Ulla pulled David's penis over to the side as Zahkra pierced the base of his penis with the needle. David winced. His eyelids fluttered. He opened his eyes, fully aware of his surroundings. He demanded to know where he was and why they were doing what they were doing to him. All the normal questions one would ask in such a situation. When David glanced over at the tray of peculiar devices and instruments to his right, he begged to be released.

Zahkra put the syringe back in the tray and while taking off her robe, showing off her size 36D breasts, she began explaining everything she thought he should know, for the time being.

"David, you are a guest in our home. As a guest in our home, you will follow our rules. Noncompliance to our demands will be rewarded with pain and possible death. The chemicals I have just injected into your body will better enable you to comply. One ingredient of this compound will cause your scrotum to bloat considerably and force fifty times the sperm production you would normally create. Another delightful chemical will make your handsome cock erect for 4 to 5 hours. Yet another, will keep your heart rate stable and prohibit it from bursting in your chest as we do what pleases us with your body."

David shouted, angrily, "Just let me go! My friends are looking for me!'

Zahkra assured her "guest", saying, "I've checked the surveillance monitors. Your friends have left. And you are…. Fresh Meat."

If you wish and are over 18, you may read the story, "Paradise" in it's entirety at this link. Or, if you'd prefer, I can email it to you.

Homeless Man Dies As People Look And Walk By

Rather than repeat what I read a couple days ago, I figured I'd rip the story right from the source. Don't tell. :)

This actually happened several days ago.

From The New York Post:

A heroic homeless man, stabbed after saving a Queens woman from a knife-wielding attacker, lay dying in a pool of blood for more than an hour as nearly 25 people indifferently strolled past him, a shocking surveillance video obtained by The Post reveals.

Some of the passers-by paused to stare at Hugo Alfredo Tale-Yax last Sunday morning and others leaned down to look at his face.

He had jumped to the aid of a woman attacked on 144th Street at 88th Road in Jamaica at 5:40 a.m., was stabbed several times in the chest and collapsed as he chased his assailant.

In the wake of the bloodshed, a man came out of a nearby building and chillingly took a cellphone photo of the victim before leaving. And in several instances, pairs of people gawked at Tale-Yax without doing anything.

Later, another man stopped, leaned over and vigorously shook Tale-Yax’s body. After lifting the victim’s head and body to reveal a pool of blood, he also walked off.

Not until some 15 minutes after he was shaken by the pedestrian — more than an hour and 20 minutes after the victim collapsed — did firefighters finally arrive and discover that Tale-Yax, 31, had died.

Firefighters were responding to a 911 call of a non-life-threatening injury at 7:23 a.m. when they found his body.

Cops said they received four 911 calls at around the time of the attack reporting a woman screaming, but found nothing. They received no other 911 calls.

The indifference of the pedestrians echoed the infamous 1964 murder of Kitty Genovese in Kew Gardens, Queens.

Her desperate screams after being stabbed failed to rouse assistance from the dozen or so people many neighbors who heard them.

George Subraj, owner of Zara Realty, which owns the building next to the murder scene, also gave surveillance footage to the NYPD for its investigation of the case.

The video shows an unidentified woman, standing about 5-foot-3 and wearing a jacket and skirt, walking down 144th Street near 88th Road with her cell phone in hand until.

As she walks under a protective scaffolding next to a building, a man is following her. He is described as 5-foot-6, wearing a green short sleeve shirt and dark pants with a green hat.

As that man accosts the woman under the scaffolding, Tale-Yax walks toward them.

Within seconds, the killer is seen on the video running out from the scaffolding and up 144th St, as the woman heads off in the opposite direction.

Tale-Yax then chases after his murderer, who had stabbed him several times in the torso with a knife, but immediately collapses face down onto the sidewalk.

Within a minute or so, the first of a long series of people begins walking by Tale-Yax without going to his aid.

That man, carrying a small bag, gave the dying Tale-Yax a glance before continuing on his way.

The victim’s body was claimed by someone whom the Medical Examiner’s Office declined to identify, and taken to a Brooklyn funeral home.

No arrests have been made, and the police have been unable to identify the woman Tale-Yax was trying to help.

Anyone with information about the murder is asked to call the NYPD’s Crime Stoppers Hotline--------------------

What gets me about this poor human being, Tale-Yax, is not only lethally stabbed while coming to the aid of this woman, but he could have been possibly saved if anyone had gotten him help as he slowly died. An entire hour or so goes by as 25 fuckers walk past him, not doing much of anything, except giving him an indifferent look. One asshole adds insult to the man's dignity and life by lifting the head of the homeless guy, sees the big pool underneath, drops the head and keeps on walking. Wow! Wish I could find that indifferent asshole and cave his head in with a baseball bat. I know the "an the eye for an eye" thing doesn't work for everyone but it can sure make a person feel good in certain situations.

This should be the kind of news that bothers everyone.

If you've read or have seen this story on the news or elsewhere and didn't feel something... anger... pity... disgust... something.... Then I encourage you to re-evaluate your humanity or lack of it and try hard to get some of it back again.

If that's the standard way (the completely indifferent way) of Big City Pedestrians, in regards to their fellow human beings, homeless or not, I don't want to live there. I'll stay in my small town where people wouldn't do walk by and do nothing to help somebody who is dying. I've read pathetic comments on this story suggesting that these fuckers walked by because they thought he was just another homeless bum, lying on the sidewalk, sleeping off his booze. Because of his stature in society, he did not rate as a human being. To these people, his life had no more value than a turd.

Hey, you fucking assholes in New York, I've got news for you! Tale-Yax was a human being. Even before he saved that woman's life. Don't stand there and take pictures of the man to add to your collection in your Facebook photo album, you sick fuckers! Don't walk by when you see someone that may be dead or dying!

Do something!

The video below shows Tale-Yax, the human being and the indifferent fuckers who walked by.